It's Molly and not Trolly

Why?

Darren stopped when he realized that they are unconscious. He turns around, steps into my apartment and waits for me. He kind of seemed to sense that I am frozen in place so he pulled me in.

"Darren. We need to take them inside. No one can see them. They'll call the police or they will think I am a serial killer."

"No. Those piece of shits will not enter your apartment."

Darren seems to be still in rage. To be honest I am more than just scared. If he can do his to his ex-friends he could do it to me too.

My thoughts shocked me and my eyes went big but I fake coughed and turned around.

Darren grabbed his phone and called someone. While walking to my small bathtoom which was only a few foot steps away I was able to hear a some words Darren said.

"3 bodys... no still alive... now... i don't care... yes me... no... in an instant... whatever..."

Darrens heavy foot steps made their way through the apartment I heard them getting more quiet. I thought he'd want to sit down and calm but the footsteps came back.

In my hands was a bucket with warm water. When Darren entered the bathroom I started shaking but not intentionally.

"Molly. There u are. I was kind of looking for you. I call- Heyyy why are u shaking. Are u afraid?"

I was shaking my head yes.

"scared of me?"

Again, shaking my head yes.

"Molly. I- Iam so sorry. I don't know what came over me. That was- That was my- not what I wanted to let anyone see"

"It's okay" I was only whispering.

"No. You know. Those... Fuckers.. I have a big weakness. I have more like a problem. So it's kind of hard to explain. Do you mind if we sit down?"

"Sure. No. Absolutely. " That made no sense. Gosh I am stupid.

We went into the living area and sat on my sofa. Darren wanted to grab my arm but as a reflex I flinched away. He looked at me shocked and his eyes showed a lot of pain and he seems hurt.

"I'm sorry. I just need to process."

"Yeah. No. You need that, yes."

"Do you like- Do you wanna talk about your-" I wasn't sure how to call it.

"Yes. I have to. I need to explain that this is usually not me. Not how I handle things."

"That's not nessecary. I know how u are"

"You sure do. But it is important for me to let it out you know. I don't want you to think wrong about me. I have a inner beast. It comes out and is very aggressive. I called it like that because this is not me. I am usually kind, open minded and polite but this beast thing is just aggressive and handles things without brain and just punshes others. Those friends, well you think they are but they aren't. They were in some way but mainly just people I used to spent most of the time with. They are very superficial and have a social standard thing and everyone who's different is automatically something worth less."

"Okay. If you can keep going. I won't judge you"

"Okay. Thank you. I regonised that I have aggression issues. I wanted to see a therapist. I once drove there and I wanted to enter the building but backed down. I was not bold enough. But I felt like a complete psychopath. Since then I never thought about seeing a therapist again. No one knows about this problem. Well, some prolly know but not because I told them. They must've seen it. Yeah whatever. "

Darren sat on the sofa. His back didn't touched the sofa it's leaned forward. His dead hung on his arms which are rested angled on his knees.
His position shows how much he doesn't want to feel like this and I can relate in some way.

I scooted over and stroked his back lightly with my right hand. I angled my left arm on my left knee and held my head in my hand. I looked at him and we stayed like this. No one said anything but it was comfortable.

"I can relate, Darren. I really can."

"Oh really? How?" He turned his head and looked straight into my eyes. It was a little intimidating but I was okay with it.

"Yes. I do. Uhm I have like a really serious depression thing. I am aware but I just don't do anything against it.   I have an eating disorder as you may have noticed. I have like those really bad thoughts. I have to do sports in order to feel better. It's like a constant inner battle with myself. I know it sounds stupid but yeah. I want to change my weight. I want to eat without seeing the pounds on my hips. I want to laugh without feeling like I don't deserve to be happy. I want to go shopping without thinking about how it'll fit how much of my stomach someone sees. I don't want to think about what others think about me but I am not bold enough to make the first step to see a therapist because I don' t want to feel like a psycho. It's the same with me. I have another thing but I can't say it. It's something I have understand myself. "

" I didn't know it was that serious. "

"Yeah, me neither. Haha"